


Long Nights

by MothMeetsFlame



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Don't get caught, Impala Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Secret Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MothMeetsFlame/pseuds/MothMeetsFlame
Summary: "Dean," Sam whispered. "Dean."Not so much as a snore in response.“Dean.”Dead asleep.With a deep breath, Sam unbuttoned his pants.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cyanidesoakedbutterflies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanidesoakedbutterflies/gifts).



> Brain hurts. Can't note. 
> 
> WARNING: Incest. 
> 
> Enjoy ;)

Sam hated nights like this. 

Carafe of coffee in one hand, binoculars in the other, he was sure that nothing could be worse than being crammed in a too small car for the next ten hours to keep an eye out for the unlikely event that a spirit of some kind would appear. And it definitely didn't help that Dean was out cold in the driver’s seat.

It wasn't the first time he'd had to do this, and it definitely wouldn't be the last, but he would rather be doing almost anything else. Ten hours in a library, ten hours in the hotel room, even ten hours tied to a chair and praying his brother would come through for him at the last second were all favorable over this.

With a sigh, he set the binoculars on the dash and relaxed for a minute. Coffee hummed through his veins enough that sleep far off. The hunt itself was practically pointless. Dean was sure they were after a spirit of some kind, but the case practically screamed serial killer to Sam. If he stretched it, he could  _ possibly _ attribute the killings to a creature of some sort, but it definitely didn't cry spirit, no matter how stubbornly Dean dug his heels in.

Even so, Sam wasn't about to argue, not when it would make his brother intolerable until they found a better case—and maybe not even then. That kind of animosity could get one of them killed, and so there he sat, stuck in the passenger seat of the Impala, trying to come up with something—anything—that would pass the time during a case that he’d already deemed closed, even if Dean hadn’t. 

"Dean," Sam whispered. "Dean."

Not so much as a snore in response.

Sam set the carafe on the bench and nudged his brother's knee for good measure.

“Dean.” 

Dead asleep.

With a deep breath, he unbuttoned his pants. Immediately, his heart jackhammered into his chest as adrenaline coursed through him. Even this little bit terrified. Anyone could stumble along and see him. His brother would decide at any moment that it would be a good time to be awake. It was early enough that some suburbanite could be out for a run, could peek inside and see him through the window. 

Still, it didn't stop Sam from unzipping his pants and pushing them down enough to reveal his half-hard cock. 

Free. He was free. Free and exposed and on the brink of being discovered, and he loved it. He took hold with a trembling hand, more scared than he'd ever been in his life, and stroked himself beside his brother, in the dark of the shadows, in the middle of a case, hoping beyond hope that he wouldn't be caught.

He bit his lip to cut off a moan. He could feel his pulse in his skin, swore he could feel it in his cock. Precome dribbled down the shaft and coated his fist quickly. Slick now, Sam had to be that much more careful not to wake Dean with the squelch of his fist around his cock. He bucked up into his hand and froze around a breathless gasp to stare at Dean.

Not even a twitch, but now Sam's heart was pounding double time, and he was harder than he’d ever thought possible, right on the verge of coming. He tried to relax a little, slow down, take his time, but as much as he loved testing the limits, he didn't want to press his luck too far. He needed to be quick, but more than anything, he needed to be quiet. 

Squeezing tighter, he sped up his hand, thumbed over the head of his cock, twisted at the base of his shaft and tried like hell not to moan. His eyes clenched shut to focus on the feeling—rough hand on his shaft, hot cock against the cool air, hips canting just that little bit, looking for more.

One thing you could say about Dean. He was a hell of a hunter, quick and quiet when it counted.

Smooth, wet lips closed around the head of Sam's cock. A little light suction and Sam couldn't hold back. He gripped the back of Dean’s head and shot straight into his brother's mouth, thick come coating Dean’s tongue before sliding straight down his throat.

Sam loosened his hand, panting as he came down from the high. "God, Dean."

Dean chuckled.

Sam shot him a look. "You were awake weren't you?"

"Knew you wouldn't last long."

Sam blushed.

"Not even fifteen minutes before your hand was on your cock."

"Like you're one to talk."

Dean grinned. "So does that mean that the next time I'm bored out of my mind while you're sifting through basement records in some hole-in-the-wall library, you'll suck me off behind the microfiche?"

Sam scoffed.

Dean smirked.

It wasn't a no.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos = Happy Jawny  
> Comment = Ecstatic Jawny  
> Kudos and Comment = A Jawny so deliriously happy that he sails off into the sky, floating on a cloud in fanfic heaven


End file.
